Say Ye (16 page)

“How many women?” He could see she tried not to cry as she bit her lip again.

“What difference does it make?” His mind ticked over how many there might have been. Damn, he couldn’t tell her that.

“I thought you were going to be honest.”

Lorenzo’s jaw flexed. “Fine. Do you mean ever?” Lita nodded. “Probably around three or four hundred, I guess.”

“Three or four hundred?” Her eyes darkened, hollow, as if she didn’t know him.

He hoped she’d never fact check with Lee or one of his cousins. The number wasn’t as bad as the details.

“I don’t know exactly. I wasn’t keeping a list. And I’ve slowed down these last two years, so I don’t remember.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

“No, it’s the truth, like you said you wanted. I knew it was a mistake to tell you.”

“Why, because I’m upset? Oh well. Did you think I’d like knowing?”

“You asked.” His neck tightened like it had the time his flight from Las Vegas lost altitude.

“It’s better to know than to wonder. Everyone knows your reputation.”

“That didn’t stop you from wanting to be with me. Have you changed your mind?”

“No. But I need to ask you one more question.” Lorenzo nodded though he didn’t want to talk anymore. “Have you, I mean, from what I’ve heard, you always preferred experienced women.”

“Are you trying to ask me if I’ve ever taken advantage of a younger woman?”

Lita nodded.

“No. I never have, not how you mean. I’ve stayed away from younger women, until you.” Lorenzo smiled, but Lita frowned. “I don’t like your implication, Lita. I’m not using you. I want to marry you. I love you.” His body lightened as he spoke. He meant the words.

“I know. It’s just…”

“What about you and all your boyfriends? Don’t I get to know how many guys you’ve dated?”

Lita smiled then at his mock seriousness. “You mean all fifty or so?”

“Fifty! You’ve been busy these last five years.” He knew Lita started dating when she was seventeen. It had been rough for Lee, not being there. He used to drive down to Monterey a lot to visit Lita at school, then to San Luis Obispo, where she went to college.

“That’s not so many. Most never made it past the first date. I got asked out a lot, but nothing ever came of it.”

He studied her and she clasped her hands. His stomach clenched at her obvious innocence yet the idea of her devotion to him, only him, made him smile again.

“Maybe…maybe this is a mistake.” Lita wouldn’t meet his eyes but she didn’t move.

“I’ve never meant to hurt you. But I can’t let you go now. You were right last night. I can’t be free of you. I’ve tried, God knows I’ve tried,” he said.

Lita sagged. Lorenzo lifted her up into his arms and carried her, her head on his chest, to his room. He set her gently on the bed and turned to get a camisole and pajama shorts out of a drawer. He set it next to her and took her hand.

“Spend the night with me?” he said in a quiet voice.

“I can’t. I don’t want to…”

“I know. I’ll just hold you, I promise. Put that on, I’ll be right back,” he said.

He went into the bathroom behind him. He wasn’t sure he could do this, but he had to, she trusted him. He waited until he thought she’d changed, but she hadn’t. She held the pajamas, waiting to use the bathroom. He told her he’d put out a toothbrush.

He changed quickly and stood by the bed when she approached him. Her eyes darted, as if she tried not to look at him, her hands fluttered over her stomach. It dawned on him she’d never seen him shirtless before, as he’d never seen her so revealed either. The camisole barely contained her ample breasts; their creamy roundness matched that of her bare thighs. He closed his eyes and drew her to him. She snuggled into him, as if it was something she did every day.

He wanted this, her, all the time. He moved toward the bed and watched Lita lay down. He eased himself next to her and pulled the blankets over them. They settled themselves together until he held her in the crook of his arm, her head and arms on his chest. Their breathing took on a rhythm and Lorenzo knew she would be okay. He wasn’t.

“Why do you have women’s lingerie in your drawer?” Lita asked in a teasing tone.

“I bought it for you a couple days after we got engaged. Wishful thinking.”

“Oh,” Lita said, serious now. “Are you sure about this?”

“Yes. You’re feeling better?” Lita nodded. “Then my plan is working.”

“What plan?”

“To make you feel better. It’s what I wanted to do that night in July, but I couldn’t. This is more comfortable than Jane’s couch, don’t you think?”

“Yes, thanks. You’re a good man, Lorenzo. I love you.”

“And I love you, Lita.”

She moved up to kiss him and slid her arms around his neck as he turned sideways and held her closer. She lay back. He hovered over her as they kissed; each movement brought them closer together. She squirmed slightly. He could have her. As she let out a tiny sound, somewhere between a moan and a cry, Lorenzo abruptly stopped and lay next to her. She shivered.

Their breathing was heavier, but as they both lay still, it went back to the steady rhythm it had before. Lorenzo turned off the light and wondered how he could get through the night.

“We should get some sleep,” he said.

In the dark, Lita again snuggled herself against his chest. He had to do this, for her. He held her a long time before he drifted off, letting himself smile as he fell asleep.

He woke up and had to force himself to get up and take a shower. It was early still as he put on his black boxer briefs, opening the door when he didn’t hear any sounds from his room. But Lita was up. He caught a glimpse of her nearly naked form and gripped the doorframe. He strained against his shorts. The silhouette of her bare curves in the dim morning light aroused him more than the most blatant display of female beauty. She turned away from him and hugged herself before glancing back at Lorenzo. He took a step toward her and she tensed, as if she’d been splashed with cold water. She looked away from him and trembled.

He shut the bathroom door.

She knocked a few moments later. He opened it immediately, the warm, moist air from the shower floated around them.

“Good morning,” he said. He stood in front of her, she was dressed now. She blocked the doorway. “I didn’t mean to startle or scare you. I thought you’d still be in bed.” He didn’t look at her, but he sensed her closeness, her eyes on him.

“I, you didn’t scare me. I’ve never seen you like this before,” she replied. She tracked him up and down appreciatively.

He caught her appraisal and smiled in anticipation. “If you like what you see half as much as I liked what I saw, well…”

“Well what?” she asked, placing her hands on his chest, exploring the subtle peaks and valleys of it, all the while holding his gaze.

He responded with a swift, strong kiss. She ran her hands over him again, his chest then his back. She moved, hesitantly, to his stomach. His whole body liquefied, he would fill her. He hiked up her dress and caressed her thighs, finding the lacy tops of her hose. She went limp, dropping her arms to her sides. He stopped then and stepped back.

“No?” he asked. He stooped with the disappointment she must have seen writ in his every feature.

“I’m sorry.” Her voice trembled.

“Right,” Lorenzo said. He moved past her and took clothes out of his dresser.

The door to the bathroom clicked shut.

When she came back into the room, he walked to her.

“We’re in love. Why don’t you want to?” He stood, rigid, his arms crossed to keep them from touching her. His body was treacherous.

“You said you would just hold me.”

The hurt, or was it disappointment, in her eyes made him dig his nails into his arm. He deserved more pain than that.

“By your choice.”

“I…I want to…The church says…” He grimaced. “Please, it’s not just that. I get…scared.” She shuddered and exhaled a shaky breath.

Why hadn’t he thought of that before? She’d almost been raped, more than once, and he didn’t know what else she’d been through. “Want to talk about it?” He tried to keep the catch out of his voice.

She shook her head. “I love you,” she whispered. She went up on tiptoe to kiss him, every tender feeling she had for him in the soft pressure of her lips on his. As she pulled away, he stared at her. She giggled. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You’re everything, I…” he stopped. The truth was too much for him. He stood still a minute before forcing a grin. “We better get you home. I’m going to have a lot of explaining to do to Uncle Enzo.”

“Is that you?” Uncle Enzo said as he came into the foyer when they walked in.

“You go up and change,” Lorenzo whispered to Lita before he kissed her ear.

She smiled, brushed her lips against his, and waved to Uncle Enzo as she went upstairs. He watched her, almost followed her. His uncle grabbed his arm.

“Nothing happened, I swear.”

“You’ve been gone all night. Do you think me a simpleton?”

“No. We had a fight and needed to talk. We fell asleep, that’s all.”

“You expect me to believe you?”

“Ask Lita. You know she’s a terrible liar.”

They sat at the kitchen table and waited. Uncle Enzo drummed his fingers, annoying Lorenzo.

“I assume what Lorenzo tells me is true?” Uncle Enzo said when Lita appeared. “You were upset and he was a gentleman?”

“Yes, that’s right. He takes good care of me.” Lita smiled and went to Lorenzo, who stood and held her.

The next evening, Lorenzo held Lita on one of the wide, comfortable couches at Uncle Enzo’s, hoping they could do more than kissing, but Lita had her attention on the movie they watched. Lorenzo didn’t want to watch anything except Lita and he became increasingly irritated as she kept telling him to stop when he caressed her or kissed her neck. After almost two weeks being engaged, they’d only been alone a few times. He wanted to show her she was safe with him.

Uncle Enzo took Celeste to dinner at Nick’s and he hoped they’d be out late. Before the movie ended, the front door slammed. Lita sat up. Lorenzo muttered to himself. Lita stood and Lorenzo followed her, trying to stop her.

“Let him be,” he whispered.

“No,” she said. She rushed into the kitchen, where Uncle Enzo poured himself a cup of coffee. “Everything okay?”

“Of course.”

“You don’t look it.”

“Just tired. Goodnight.” Uncle Enzo shot him a dark, angry frown as Lita turned a questioning face to him.

“Go talk to him,” she said after Uncle Enzo went into his sitting room.

Lorenzo knew he shouldn’t, but she wouldn’t give up.

He knocked on his uncle’s door and stepped into the room lit only by the hazy light from the TV.

“Lita wants me to talk to you.”

“Tell her I’m fine.”

“You’re not.”

“Thanks to you,” Uncle Enzo snapped. “Celeste thinks I’m too hard on you. Bosh, she doesn’t know you like I do. I won’t let you hurt my niece.”

“I guess the party’s off.”

“No, no, you won’t get out of it so easily. Go on and tell her I’m fine.” Lorenzo stood still. “Now.”

He knew if he didn’t leave, Uncle Enzo would start yelling. He shrugged and left, doing as he was instructed. This only left him with both Uncle Enzo and Lita angry at him. It had started, as he expected.

12

Lita did not expect to be miserable less than a month after Lorenzo’s proposal, a week before her engagement party, less than two weeks until Christmas. Yet here she sat, missing Lorenzo. It didn’t help to see Uncle Enzo, whose dark-circled eyes and scowl reflected her mood. They decided to stay home and not go to Sophia’s for Sunday dinner. Lita made them sandwiches and they watched a movie, not talking except to say goodnight. They spent two more days like that, until Sophia came over on Tuesday evening.